


touchdown turnaround everything is safe and sound (day 4 - alternate universe)

by readbetweenthelions



Series: Bokukuro Week [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, College Football, Locker Room, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:43:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HA HA HA american football is my favorite sport in the whole entire world, how could i fucking resist bokuto and kuroo in football uniforms really??? honestly lineman bokuto and wide receiver kuroo is a dream (plus QUARTERBACK AKAASHI eh?? eh?????) and this fic was ideal for me. not that this fic wasn't really just an excuse to write kuroo fucking bokuto in a jockstrap, but...</p></blockquote>





	touchdown turnaround everything is safe and sound (day 4 - alternate universe)

Kuroo looks up at the sky, ignoring the way the stadium lights are just a little too bright in his periphery. It’s part of playing games at night, so he’s used to it, and these lights in particular – they have the home field advantage tonight. There are hundreds and hundreds of fans in the bleachers cheering for them, and fewer cheering for the opposing team but still not an inconsiderable amount.

It’s four minutes from the end of the third quarter, and they’re up 48-28, but that doesn’t mean they have any security. Slacking off now would mean the opposing team breaking through their defense, and if they managed that, well, they could certainly score a few touchdowns and make a comeback. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility, especially not when their teams are so evenly matched anyway.

Kuroo sprints across the field, positioning himself under the ball at all times. Akaashi’s throws always have to be chased, but that’s part of what makes them good plays. No one but Kuroo can really predict where they’ll go. There are defenders closing in, but Kuroo considers them not so much a problem as a minor obstacle. He can always outrun them, for a little while at least, with his long legs, or he can dodge. No, it’s the receiving that’s the real challenge – and luckily, that’s what he’s best at.

The ball drops easily into Kuroo’s outstretched hands, and he tucks it swiftly to his chest as he turns and makes a dash towards the endzone. It’s the second down, so if he can make it at least ten yards this time around, they’ll be golden to make yet another touchdown in the next couple of plays. Kuroo sprints at a slight diagonal along the field, away from where two defenders are giving chase on his right and choosing instead to move towards the single defender from the left.

Kuroo sees a cornerback drawing a little too close, the white and green of his jersey beginning to fill Kuroo’s visual field. Kuroo changes his steps to dodge, draws back a little then circles around, But this guy is a little faster than Kuroo had estimated, and he doesn’t manage to shake him. Kuroo sees fingers curl around the bars of his facemask, then feels the jolt as the hand pulls down on his helmet. Kuroo tips forward with the force and falls, one hand skidding on the turf as he braces himself. It’s painful, but not a sharp pain – not worse than getting tackled. The ball stays carefully tucked to his chest until after he’s hit the ground, but on his second bounce on the turf, the ball slips away from him. There’s a sharp whistle from somewhere.

Kuroo struggles onto his hands and knees, then onto his feet. Off to his left, one of the refs is making hand signals to call the player standing to Kuroo’s right for facemasking.

Kuroo adjusts his helmet a little, straightening it from where it had gone slightly askew. The facemasking was an obvious call, and the right one, considering how dangerous a foul like that can be for the person on the receiving end of it; but luckily, Kuroo doesn’t feel hurt. It doesn’t feel like his neck was tweaked at all, and he hadn’t hit his head. His palms and knees ache a little from the fall, but nothing he’s not used to, a lighter burden even than a traditional tackle. The ref dictates the fifteen yard penalty to the opposing team and first down for Kuroo’s team, and it actually seems like a favorable outcome, all things considered.

The ref checks to make sure Kuroo is alright, and Kuroo nods that he is. He’s shaken, but physically okay. The ordeal isn’t quite over, though.

“Hey hey heeey!” a familiar voice shouts. It has always been intimidating to see Bokuto running towards you, and it’s no less scary now. He barrels towards Kuroo and the player who had grabbed his mask, turf kicking up behind his cleats as he runs.

“Kou – ” Kuroo says.

“What the fuck was that?” Bokuto hollers. He jabs a pair of fingers aggressively in the direction of the other team’s player, who looks a little mortified behind the bars of his helmet. “Hey, asshole! Fuck you! What the fuck were you thinking?”

Bokuto storms towards the player, looking for all the world like he’s intending to start a fight.

“ _Koutarou_ ,” Kuroo says, his palm pushing firm into Bokuto’s chest to halt him in his tracks. Bokuto stops, then stares at Kuroo as if he’s grown two heads.

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says. “He can’t just _do_ that – ”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Kuroo says. “I’m fine. They already penalized him, come on.”

“But he – ”

“Don’t,” Kuroo says firmly. “Don’t start a fight.” His plea carries a weight of warning. Bokuto has been teased since their sophomore year about the time he earned their team a 15-yard penalty for showboating. A fight here, even a verbal one if not a physical one, could earn them a penalty despite having just benefited considerably from the penalty against the other team.

Bokuto steps back a little, but scowls heavily behind his facemask.

“Look, we gained fifteen yards on top of the twelve I ran, and it’s first down,” Kuroo reminds him. “That’s – that’s good, come on.”

“It’s not good if you’re hurt!” Bokuto says hotly.

“I’m not hurt,” Kuroo promises. “I’m fine.”

There’s a pause. “Are you _sure_ you’re fine?” Bokuto asks, his voice soft and, to Kuroo’s well-trained-to-Bokuto’s-emotions ears, a little scared.

Kuroo glances over Bokuto’s shoulder. He can see the doctors on the sidelines, but they don’t appear to be overly worried about his condition. Kuroo had stood right back up, after all. He’ll get himself checked after the quarter, just to make sure, but he’s certain there’s nothing wrong.

“Yes,” Kuroo says. “I am _fine_. It’s okay. I’ll get checked at the quarter, but I’m _fine._ ” Kuroo puts a comforting hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, and wants to reach out and take his hand or something, to reassure him further, but the moment is interrupted.

“Er,” says a voice behind Kuroo. Kuroo turns to look at its owner – the player in white and green who’d pulled him down earlier. “Sorry.”

“No hard feelings,” Kuroo says, though he can feel Bokuto next to him, practically vibrating with rage. The other team’s player nods and jogs off, towards his coach, who he is sure will give him enough of a dressing down without him getting into a fistfight with Bokuto.

“First down,” Kuroo reminds Bokuto, patting a hand roughly on Bokuto’s chest. Bokuto looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He reluctantly trots off to rejoin the line, and Kuroo takes his place near the tight end.

In the end, Kuroo’s team wins, 57-35, and the celebration in the locker room is raucous. Their coach gives an exuberant speech, and there are several rounds of loud, excited cheering. There are hearty backslaps and hugs and good-natured shoving as they all remove their gear and pack up their belongings. They’re still in the middle of the season, so the win isn’t deserving of as much celebration as winning something like a semi-final match, but it’s exciting nonetheless. After their small celebration, their teammates clear out and head back to their dorms. Bokuto and Kuroo are the only ones left in the locker room, hanging back at Bokuto’s insistence that they talk for a minute.

They hardly ever get to be alone in this place like this, usually surrounded by a flock of teammates at any given moment. The locker room seems eerily quiet with just the two of them there. They’ve removed their helmets and shoulder pads, but they remain in their shirts and football pants and cleats. Bokuto’s shoulders are still broad without the pads and he’s impressively muscled, compared to Kuroo and even compared to some of the other linemen. Kuroo wants to take a minute to admire the slope of his shoulders, but there’s something distracting in his face.

“I was worried about you, you know,” Bokuto says. “You could have really gotten hurt. I was really scared.”

“I’m okay,” Kuroo tells him.

“But what if you aren’t?”

“They checked – no concussion, no whiplash. Nothing more than some bruised knees. I’ve had way worse.”

Bokuto nods, and looks at his feet. Kuroo’s heart lurches a little. Bokuto isn’t easily frightened, but he looks shaken up still.

“I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” Bokuto says. His lower lip trembles a little. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Kuroo says. He reaches out to touch Bokuto’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. It’s a small, simple gesture, soft and intimate, intended to calm Bokuto’s nerves. Bokuto searches Kuroo’s face for a moment, searching for any sign of doubt or fear in Kuroo. Finding none, he draws closer to Kuroo.

Bokuto leans in and kisses Kuroo full on the mouth. Kuroo melts into it easily. Bokuto wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck, pulling him close and locking his mouth against Kuroo’s. The kiss is warm and familiar, not exactly _practiced_ , but lord knows they’ve had enough practice that it could be.

They’d been standing in the center of the locker room, but Kuroo takes a couple of steps back and lets his back rest against the lockers. Bokuto will like that – he’s always liked backing Kuroo up against things. Kuroo’s hands grip Bokuto’s waist tightly, pulling his body close to Kuroo’s own, their hips pressed against one another’s and one of Kuroo’s knees pushed between Bokuto’s legs. After a minute, Bokuto pulls back a little, letting them both catch their breath. Kuroo touches Bokuto’s face again, stroking the line of his jaw.

“Can I…?” Bokuto says, and his hand gropes Kuroo’s crotch.

Kuroo smirks. Bokuto has a stronger sex drive than anyone else Kuroo’s ever dated, and Kuroo seriously can’t complain. “Yeah,” Kuroo says. “Go ahead.”

Bokuto kisses Kuroo’s neck, then drops to his knees in front of Kuroo, stabilizing himself by gripping Kuroo’s hips. He undoes the strings of Kuroo’s football pants and pulls them down slightly until they sit below the cup of his jockstrap.

Kuroo digs his fingers into Bokuto’s scalp as Bokuto mouths at his cock through the fabric of the cup. Kuroo can feel himself growing hard from the light, teasing sensation, and he leans his head back against the lockers and lets Bokuto work.

It’s a few minutes before Bokuto’s groping has Kuroo hard enough for Bokuto to pull the jock strap down to expose Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo looks down at Bokuto as he grips Kuroo’s cock at the base, his mouth close enough that his breath is warm on Kuroo’s skin.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Bokuto says. “I’m glad we won.”

With that, he wraps his lips around Kuroo’s cock. He pushes Kuroo’s foreskin back with his lips, rubbing his tongue over the head for a long moment before pushing his head down and taking more of Kuroo’s cock in his mouth. He works his mouth around Kuroo’s erection, hollowing his cheeks and dragging the flat of his tongue along the length. Kuroo groans and lays his head back again, shutting his eyes to savor the sensation.

Bokuto sucks Kuroo’s cock for several minutes, one hand holding Kuroo’s hips steady and the other alternately stroking the base of Kuroo’s cock and playing gently with Kuroo’s balls. Kuroo feels Bokuto shift a little and release his grip at Kuroo’s hip, and Kuroo looks down at him in time to watch him shove a hand in the front of his pants, grabbing his own erection. He pumps his hand hard around himself in the little space he has and moans softly around Kuroo’s cock.

Kuroo runs his fingers through Bokuto’s hair, flattened from his helmet and then spiked back up a little with the half-dried sweat leftover from playing a game. It’s a little gross, but they’re _both_ a little gross, and they’ve been grosser. Bokuto looks up at Kuroo with heavy lidded eyes and a pink blush spread across his nose and cheeks and pushes his head down to let Kuroo’s cock push to the back of his throat.

“Ah, _Koutarou_ ,” Kuroo moans, leaning his head back against the lockers again.

Bokuto pulls off Kuroo’s cock, then plants wet-lipped kisses along his length from tip to base. Kuroo hisses an excited breath in through his teeth, and grips Bokuto’s hair near his scalp to gently pull him off altogether.

“Hey,” Kuroo says. “Stand up. I wanna fuck you.”

The beginnings of a smile twitch at the corners of Bokuto’s mouth. He takes Kuroo’s outstretched hand and pulls himself up to stand in front of Kuroo. Kuroo kisses him again, tasting himself on Bokuto’s lips, then pulls him close with his hands on Bokuto’s ass, still in his padded football pants.

Kuroo pulls back from the kiss after a minute and reaches between himself and Bokuto to undo the strings that tie Bokuto’s pants. Kuroo takes a minute to pull his own pants and jockstrap down to his calves and off over his feet, then reaches out to tug Bokuto’s pants down around his thighs.

Kuroo takes in the view for a moment. Bokuto has always looked incredible in a jockstrap, and his erection straining against the cup of it is a sight that really turns Kuroo on.

“Turn around,” Kuroo says, voice soft with admiration and arousal.

Bokuto licks his lips and turns around. He spreads his legs as far open as possible with his pants still around his thighs, then bends over and grabs the bench in front of him. Kuroo says a small prayer of thanks to any and every god he can think of.

Kuroo squats behind Bokuto, Bokuto’s ass at eye level. Bokuto’s ass is thick, mostly muscle but with a pleasing layer of fat. The white straps of his jockstrap frame it neatly, tucking under the cheeks of it. Kuroo grips the firm cheeks of Bokuto’s ass with both hands, spreading them apart.

Kuroo presses his mouth between Bokuto’s cheeks, licking with a wet tongue around the rim of Bokuto’s hole. Bokuto gasps, then pushes his hips back against Kuroo’s face. Kuroo pushes his tongue into Bokuto and swirls it for a moment, earning a gasp from Bokuto and setting him alternately grinding his hips backwards and thrusting at empty air. Kuroo backs off for a moment to suck excess saliva away, then renews his ministrations.

Bokuto has always loved getting rimmed, and it soon has him panting with exhilaration. Kuroo takes a minute to thoroughly wet a pair of fingers with saliva, and then pushes them, one after the other, into Bokuto’s hole. He fingers him and rims him simultaneously for a while, then spreads his fingers little by little, scissoring Bokuto open slowly.

“Ah, yeah, that’s…” Bokuto mutters. “Fuck…”

Kuroo can’t suppress a small chuckle of amusement at Bokuto’s incoherence. It can be so easy to get him worked up, and it’s always been one of Kuroo’s favorite things to do.

“Tetsurou,” Bokuto pants, “fuck me.”

Kuroo lifts his face from Bokuto’s ass, then stands, his hands on Bokuto’s back to help himself up.

“Give me a sec,” Kuroo says. He crosses the locker room to the locker where he keeps his athletic bag, opens it, and rummages in the bag for a minute. He finally locates what he was looking for – a small bottle of lube – and repositions himself behind Bokuto. He lubricates a couple of fingers and pushes them back into Bokuto, working him open for a few moments more. When Bokuto feels loose enough, Kuroo slicks his own cock with some of the lube and lines himself up to Bokuto’s hole.

Bokuto groans as Kuroo pushes slowly into him. He takes Kuroo’s cock easily, used to it after nearly a year of dating and regular sex with Kuroo. Not that Bokuto bottoms _all_ the time, but he certainly does enough that this is practically second nature to him. After a moment, Kuroo begins to move his hips, his thrusts long and slow to start out.

Bokuto takes a deep inhale, then gives a long, low moan. He lifts one hand from the bench and pulls his erection from the cup of his jockstrap. Bokuto strokes his own cock for a moment, but soon leaves off, preferring instead to use both hands to brace himself against the bench and to let Kuroo do the work of getting him off. Not that Kuroo minds. Kuroo has a mind to get Bokuto off without really touching his dick, so Kuroo lets Bokuto’s cock sit where he’s taken it out of the cup of his strap, not bothering to take over for Bokuto.

Kuroo fucks Bokuto with long, smooth movements of his hips, holding Bokuto by his waist and pulling Bokuto back against his cock as he pushes in. Bokuto gives a long, pleasured sigh, and Kuroo feels a surge of love for him. Bokuto is an amazing boyfriend, honestly. First he goes down on Kuroo in the locker room after the game, then he lets Kuroo hit it from behind! Kuroo’s long, slow thrusts speed up a little, until he’s fucking Bokuto at a steady clip.

“Shit…” Bokuto swears. “God, I love getting fucked after we win…”

“Mm,” Kuroo says, bending low over Bokuto to press a kiss to his neck. He pushes his cock as far into Bokuto as he can, far enough to make Bokuto squirm with pleasure beneath him. Kuroo pushes himself back upright with a hand braced on Bokuto’s shoulder, and resumes the steady pace of his thrusts.

Bokuto groans as Kuroo fucks him, leaning his head back and then letting it hang limp, his hands gripping the bench tight enough that his knuckles go white.

“You alright?” Kuroo asks.

“Yeah,” Bokuto breathes. “Harder… fuck me harder.”

Kuroo obliges him, speeding up his pace and fucking deeper and rougher with each thrust. This elicits a true, open-mouthed moan of pleasure from Bokuto. Kuroo licks his lips and drives into him over and over again, determined to please Bokuto. Sex like this is both a celebration and a comfort, reassuring Bokuto that everything is alright, that everything is _more_ than alright.

Kuroo pounds Bokuto fast and with as much force as he can muster, until Bokuto is giving soft little whimpers with each thrust. Now and then Bokuto moans Kuroo’s name, or gives a long sigh of ecstasy.

“You like that?” Kuroo asks. His hand slides up along Bokuto’s back, coming to rest on and grip Bokuto’s shoulder as he fucks deep into him.

“Yeah,” Bokuto says. “Yeah, fuck, I like it, I love taking your cock.”

Kuroo feels a twinge of fondness, and strokes the hand not holding Bokuto by the shoulder over the curve of Bokuto’s waist and down to brush his fingertips over the soft skin of Bokuto’s ass before he grabs a handful of it in earnest.

“Hey,” Bokuto says. He leans his head back and to the side, looking back at Kuroo. “I’m – ah, fuck, _yeah_ – I’m really glad you’re okay, okay?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “I’m glad I am too. Don’t worry about anything, alright? I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Bokuto nods, and Kuroo makes sure to push into Bokuto as deep as he can with each thrust for a minute or two before backing off a little, exchanging the depth for a faster pace. Bokuto’s arms stay locked and steady, but his legs begin to shake underneath him. Regardless, Bokuto grinds his hips back against Kuroo, taking him in deeper.

“Maybe I should get more fouls against me,” Kuroo jokes, his breathing a little short from exertion, “if you’re going to throw yourself at me like this.”

Bokuto looks back over his shoulder and glares.

“I’m kidding!” Kuroo says.

Bokuto snorts and grinds his hips back against Kuroo, pushing Kuroo deeper into him. Kuroo slides both hands to Bokuto’s hips to hold him steady, then slams into him again and again, enough to make Bokuto’s back arch and his knees to wobble dangerously.

“Ah, Tetsurou, you’re gonna make me – ” Bokuto chokes out, voice strained with the tension of his mounting orgasm.

“You can come whenever you want,” Kuroo tells him, running a hand up from Bokuto’s ass along his spine, pushing his hand under Bokuto’s shirt.

“Ngh…”

It takes another minute of steady pounding, but Bokuto comes with a soft grunt, the muscles of his back and core tensing hard, then releasing. Kuroo leans his head to the side to watch cum dribble from the tip of Bokuto’s cock, mostly falling to the bench below him, but some of it clinging to his cock and to the cup of the jockstrap he’d pushed aside earlier. Kuroo feels a rush of fondness for him as Bokuto climaxes, and feels himself begin to approach his own orgasm.

“Ah…” Bokuto sighs, the muscles of his body twitching with the leftovers of his orgasm as Kuroo continues to thrust into him. His arms finally give out, letting him fold forward and rest his cheek on the bench as Kuroo fucks him. “Shit…”

“Mm… My turn, Koutarou…” Kuroo murmurs. He feels his orgasm gathering, a dull tingle in his spine that builds to a numbness in his hips.

“Come inside me,” Bokuto says, his voice a little muffled from where his face is pressed to the wooden bench. Kuroo nods, his thrusts becoming desperate and erratic as his orgasm mounts, then rocks its way through Kuroo’s body.

“Ah – _ahh_ ,” Kuroo moans, his cock jerking and pumping Bokuto full of cum. “Yeah… _fuck_ …”

Kuroo’s thrusts slow to a halt, and after a few seconds to gather himself, he pulls out of Bokuto. Immediately, some of Kuroo’s cum runs down the inside of Bokuto’s thighs. Kuroo watches, a little fascinated for a moment, then jerks himself out of his daze.

“Wait there,” Kuroo says, and Bokuto nods where he looks up from the bench at Kuroo. Kuroo grabs a towel and returns to Bokuto’s side, wiping cum from the inside of Bokuto’s thighs and higher, where most of the rest of Kuroo’s semen is leaking from Bokuto’s hole. Afterwards, Bokuto stands. He takes the towel from Kuroo and wipes cum from the bench and from the cup of his jockstrap.

“You’re amazing,” Kuroo tells him fondly.

Bokuto gives Kuroo a wide grin. “I do my best,” he says. Kuroo kisses Bokuto heavy on the mouth, folding him into a tight embrace with his arms around Bokuto’s waist. Kuroo’s erection is beginning to fade, but the sensitive head of it rubs against Bokuto’s stomach as they kiss, making Kuroo moan into Bokuto’s mouth.

“Mm,” Bokuto says, after a minute, and pulls away from Kuroo. “We should go home.”

“Mmn, yeah,” Kuroo agrees.

They take a minute to slip out of the last articles of their football uniforms, packing them haphazardly into their athletic bags and dressing instead in their everyday clothes, sweatpants for Kuroo and basketball shorts for Bokuto. They leave the locker room, Kuroo flicking the lights off behind them, and walk across campus to the suite in the dorms they share with Akaashi and Yaku.

“Hey, Kou,” Kuroo says with a smirk as they’re turning onto the street their dorm building sits on. “I left the bottle of lube in the locker room on accident. Ha, ha.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Bokuto says, recognizing the implication that someone is going to discover that lube and _know_ that someone has been having sex in the locker room.

“Oh well,” Kuroo says. He reaches over and slips his hand into Bokuto’s, leaning a little against him as they walk. What does he care if people know they’ve been having sex in the locker room, anyway? Kuroo considers it an accomplishment rather than an embarrassment. Bokuto is a fantastic boyfriend, and he likes having everyone know that Bokuto is his – even if it does embarrass them both a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> HA HA HA american football is my favorite sport in the whole entire world, how could i fucking resist bokuto and kuroo in football uniforms really??? honestly lineman bokuto and wide receiver kuroo is a dream (plus QUARTERBACK AKAASHI eh?? eh?????) and this fic was ideal for me. not that this fic wasn't really just an excuse to write kuroo fucking bokuto in a jockstrap, but...


End file.
